The muffled sound of the engines roaring, and rotating tires only slightly grated upon Kurt's [thankfully] functioning ears. Finn had been more than willing to go with Kurt to tell his Dad in person, but first he insisted they get ear him ear plugs. Apparently Kurt wasn't the only one freaked out by his sudden loss-then-gain of hearing.

He straightened his favorite simple, white lip service jacket. He knew it wasn't smart to wear white to a car garage with grease and things, but hell, he needed the boost in his confidence while the world still felt off-kilter. (Still, he tensed in his jacket.)

His father's back was turned to him as he was peering into what Kurt believed to be their worst employee, Tim's, latest disaster.

"If the man says he needs his oil change, why do you think that'd mean 'let's overflow their window fluid tank?' That's it, from now on we're keeping you on washing duty until you somehow find your competence as for the rest of you-"

Burt's tirade was cut short because as he turned around his irate gaze softened upon seeing Kurt standing beside Finn, fiddling with his jacket, and obviously trying not to look away from his father's inquiring eyes.

"Um," Kurt's voice cracked nervously, but he tried again before his father woke from his shocked stupor. "You really shouldn't get all worked up over poor Tim, Dad. It's not good for your heart."

Burt's eyes were still wide with shock as he slowly stepped towards Kurt, and placed his dirty, grease-ridden, suddenly shaking hands over Kurt's ears. He seemed to stroke them for a moment, before tilting Kurt's head so their eyes met once again.

He whispered, so softly, that Kurt wondered if he'd heard him at all, "What did you say?" but he knew he heard his Dad. He knew it moments after his Dad had spoken. He offered him a shaky smile, trying to stop the tears of pure joy that were trying to run free from his eyes when he replied, "I just heard you yelling and you know with your heart you shouldn't-"

Once again, words were cut short, but this time it was because Burt had swiftly released Kurt's ears from his hold, only to bring Kurt into the fold of his arms.

"Damn my heart," he murmured, "you're my heart."

Kurt knew that this was an overly sentimental moment, he knew he'd cherish those words for years, and he also knew despite being able to talk this wasn't a time to do so. He couldn't fill this void of silence with conversation because all that needed to be said had been done.

With the whirring of car's being fixed in the background, with the sudden, striking realization that the world kept moving despite such shaking events in his life, all Kurt felt was left to do was simply reach out his hand.

When Finn clasped his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, Kurt knew everything would be okay.

His eyes widened then – there were so many other people he had to tell!

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Walking through the chaotic halls of Dalton that following Tuesday morning felt like returning to a foreign land. Every noise and nuance he heard felt like it was the first time he was hearing it. When he walked into the dining hall and passed a boy munching upon an apple, the sweet crunch periodically caused him to smile as the thunder of chatter in the hall seemed to quiet significantly when he made his way towards the Warblers table section.

Oh no, he his breath caught upon catching the change in volume, was he already losing his hearing again?

This unimaginable thought was immediately proven wrong when he glanced around and realized everyone was looking at him.

Before he took take his seat beside Blaine's [surprisingly] empty one, David stepped before him and grasped his shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Oh, I missed you too David, no I'm great, my weekend wasn't insane at all," replied Kurt sarcastically. He tried to step out of his roommate's hold, but it was futile.

"No man, I mean, jeez! Blaine's been a wreck these past few days after your breakdown at your house and he would barely tell us anything. I don't even know how you're talking right now. Somehow news got out that a Warbler was injured and you'd think someone went and shot up the school around here. Guys have been practically fawning over Blaine's gelled little head just in hopes they could get more information out of him. Basically, what the hell?" David exclaimed as he pulled Kurt into a hug.

His outburst spurred on the rest of the Warblers seated to spring forward and soon enough Kurt was engulfed in a sea of hugs and smiles. Obviously, he didn't need to explain his recovery, his friends were just relieved he was back and healthy again. The other student's, not included within the small Warbler huddle, kept gazing over at their section unashamed in their curiosity, but Kurt simply looked away, they could find out some other time. He blinked back tears, the corners of his lips quirking up despite his best efforts.

He stumbled forward when someone yanked him by the arm and proceeded to drag him out into the hall, continuing to pull him towards the dorms. Kurt tripped on his feet as Wes pulled him along with long strides.

"W-Wes!" squeaked Kurt, twisting his wrist to loosen Wes's iron grip.

"Quiet, Warbler Kurt, the less questions you ask, the quicker this will go. Glad you're doing better by the way," he ended with a small smile.

Kurt fought back his own smile, suddenly this day was going much faster than he had anticipated and he just hoped Wes wasn't dragging him off towards their rehearsal room to try and run him through his paces. He may have recovered, but he had no idea when, if he'd ever, be prepared to start singing again. Kurt winced at the thought of how much damage his voice could've suffered over the course of his ailment.

They abruptly stopped before the generic, yet beautifully crafted mahogany door of a dorm room. They were never marked clearly, at least not with the normal room numbers. Instead each student was allowed to design a unique doorway ornament to be placed above the arch of their door. When Kurt looked up and saw the carved Beagle he visibly relaxed. Wes was just taking him to Blaine's room, to see Blaine, right?

"Um, Wes?" Kurt hesitantly poked the Council member's shoulder.

"Shh." He gently pushed his way into Blaine's open dorm as he whispered to Kurt, "I was supposed to bring him breakfast, he's been moping in bed, but I think he'll enjoy you more."

Kurt blushed, did Wes even realize what he was saying? Probably not, he decided, Wes was a person who completely missed double entendres.

"Hey buddy, look what I got." Wes sounded like a kid offering his pet dog a chew toy, Kurt hoped he wasn't being thought of as a chew toy, because, ew. (Kurt resolutely refused to think about Blaine's tongue on his skin with all the enthusiasm of a puppy.)

Blaine lifted himself from his pillow and tiredly turned to Wes with a frown. "I swear to God Wes if you've brought me another one of those creepy tea remedies I'll-"

Blaine stopped as their eyes connected. Blaine's face was as pale as Kurt's own, and just as Kurt was about to break the silence Wes decided to do so for him.

"Well, aren't you going to say hello to our youngest Warbler? It's not as if you haven't missed him enough to prompt a teary-eyed Disney moment reunion," Wes added with a chuckle. Kurt wondered if it was worth it to sock Wes in the arm to stop his commentary.

Kurt pulled his arm from Wes's grasp with a scoff. "I'll have you know, Wesley, I am not the youngest of the Warblers, and thank you for ruining my potential Disney moment."

He proceeded to try and shove Wes out the door, but was halted by the vice grip of Blaine's hand on his arm.

Kurt turned to face him, but Blaine had other ideas. He soon found himself flush up against Blaine in the tightest of hugs he'd ever felt.

"You're okay" Blaine whispered, burying his head in Kurt's neck and breathing deeply as if he couldn't believe such a revelation. If Kurt was honest with himself, he knew a day ago he wouldn't have believed this outcome either.

Instead of trying to pull back to speak or to look into his friend's eyes, he shuffled closer and gripped Blaine's wrinkled T-shirt and whispered, "I am now."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Kurt slumped into the doctor's office chair; he hated hearing exams more than anything in the world. He'd even sell half his McQueen fall collection – mind you, it'd be last year's collection – just so he could avoid such tedious sessions. Kurt didn't take disappointment lightly, and he twisted in his seat, hoping that the results of his hearing test would prove positive.

Maybe it was easy for some people to take these tests, but not for him, especially not after what happened last weekend. He still couldn't shake the fear that he'd suddenly lose his hearing again. What if this appointment proved his fears to be justified, what would happen then? With all the miracles that Kurt had been getting lately, he worried that things would turn bad again.

He bit his lip and turned to face his father just as the Doctor calmly walked in and closed his office door softly, and yet Kurt swore the click of it closing echoed around the room ominously.

"Ah, sorry about having to leave for a moment there," began Doctor Hine as he took off his coat and settled before them at his desk. "Now, Kurt, I believe the infection has all but cleared, correct?"

Kurt nodded quickly, he'd been cleared earlier by the doctor's aide, "You haven't been feeling any specific adverse affects or symptoms similar to what you had during your infection, have you?"

"No sir," Kurt responded quickly, tapping his fingers impatiently on his thigh. He wanted to know the results of the hearing test and he wanted to know now.

Doctor Hine chuckled, "Quite eager to get straight into the thick of things I see. Well then, I shan't leave you waiting a moment longer. You've lost all hearing in your right ear."

Just as Kurt was sure he'd lost the ability to breathe, Doctor Hine tried his best to relieve him of any possible worries. "I know you're a singer, but answer me this. Have you noticed any changes?"

Kurt abruptly shook his head. "Um, I haven't noticed any specific problems with hearing things, but what about my singing?"

"You can still talk, can't you?" the doctor replied with a wink.

"This isn't a time to joke sir," Kurt tried to bite back a sigh of annoyance as the doctor paused for a moment to shuffle his paperwork about. The sound of papers shifting irritated Kurt.

"Have you tried singing yet? At all?"

"I can run scales fine, but I haven't tried a full blown song. I asked a friend of mine to listen in and she seems to think that I'm almost as pitch perfect as her." He rolled his eyes as Doctor Hine squinted in confusion.

"Almost?"

Kurt shrugged. "When it comes to my friend Rachel, she's just saying I'm perfect in her own special way."

"Ah, I see." Dr. Hine replied with a slight smile. "Every case is different, every person is different, and while I'm no vocal coach there is no reason for you to not be able to sing. Some people are blessed with excellent pitch, so perhaps that's you. Keep your friend around to help you catch any problems, but honestly, you'll have to know your own body. Especially when it comes to the talent of singing, you need to trust yourself too."

"But there's no guarantee that I could keep this hearing quality."

"Even if you'd kept more of your hearing in that ear, I wouldn't have been able to guarantee you anything. We still have to keep watch of your hearing, and to guarantee you such a thing, would be for me to lie to you. I can't lie to you, Kurt."

Both Burt and Kurt frowned, but they didn't let this news bring sadness just yet, this wasn't the news they were waiting on. It was the other ear that mattered most.

"Now to your left ear," Doctor Hines opened Kurt's newly updated chart, "I'd love to say that you've lost no less than what was already missing, but that wouldn't be true. However, I can say you've retained 75% of your hearing which is wonderful!" Upon catching Kurt biting his lip, he hastened to assure, "All is not at a lost child, don't look so forlorn."

Kurt couldn't help but feel the weight of disappointment settle upon his chest, while he knew it had been unrealistic to hope for no changes, he had done so anyway. He clenched his fist and bit his lip as he thought, seventy-five percent? That means nothing.

He knew that, eventually, that would be gone too.

He was broken out of his thoughts by the touch of a hand to his own. His father had placed his hand over Kurt's.

"Kid, that may not seem like a lot to you, but it sure as hell does to me! Just listen to what else the doctor has to say before you start playing that Wicked music to cheer yourself up, okay?"

Kurt nodded stiffly, what else was there to do?

"As I was saying, retaining 75% is wonderful! For all we know, it could stay that way. We have plenty of alternatives to keep this ear functioning if say your hearing does plummet, but for now we can just keep watch and try to give you as normal a life as possible. The only major change is we're moving your appointments up from once a year to every three months for the next two years. This has been a major development so we have to watch the pattern of loss, or lack thereof. If it's positive progression and we see no moves of you losing your hearing suddenly, we'll then lessen your appointment back to twice a year, and then once a year, hopefully."

Kurt didn't like that answer at all, but he had to look on the bright side, he knew.

He collected himself; alright, maybe he could do that. All he could see as a positive was that he could hear anything at all, which, he slowly realized, was kind of the point to the whole thing. It was as if a light bulb had lit up above his head. Of course, he could still hear things, and he had the opportunity to preserve that.

He wasn't exactly looking forward to more regularly scheduled hearing tests, but at least he wasn't not left guessing if the things he's doing are right or wrong. He could now be careful of his surroundings knowing that he would sooner be aware if there was any loss.

He smiled and tuned back into Doctor Hine's spiel only to realize his father and the doctor were rising and shaking hands.

"Thank you again for being so swift with these appointments, Doctor Hine," Burt said as he smiled and shook the doctor's hand far more vigorously than it seemed the man was used to. The poor Doctor was practically hopping in place with each handshake.

"Alright Dad, let's go. I want to get away from this place before they decide I need another exam." Kurt smiled at Dr. Hine gratefully. "Thank you," he said.

"As a matter a fact!" piped up the doctor with a chuckle.

"God, no!" Kurt shook his head, laughing along, as he tried to steer his dad towards the door. "I told you, let's go!"

Burt chuckled, and finally left the office upon further helpful pokes in the right direction by his son. Kurt turned to thank Doctor Hines again, only to jump back in surprise as the doctor stood right in front of him.

"You almost forgot this." The doctor handed over Kurt's copy of his exam results, but just as Kurt tried to tug them out of his hand the doctor held on steadfastly. He held Kurt's gaze, turning serious for a moment.

"You take care, Kurt, and remember: this isn't something that can hold you back. See you in three months," he said with a slight smile as he finally let go of the papers.

Kurt simply folded his papers in half and offered the doctor his hand to shake. "Thank you." He repeated as they shook hands.

As Kurt finally left that office beside his Dad he breathed out, exhaling deeply, and perhaps with a skip to his step, he was glad to finally have the tough part done.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

When Kurt found out that not only had the date of Nationals been moved up, but it had also been moved from New York to Nebraska due to issues with the venue and sponsorship, he took it as a sign.

While the other Warblers tutted and frowned, it's not like they necessarily needed him to win. Although the council had offered him a solo, he felt it was earned more through pity for his situation than talent. Let's be honest; who offers a kid a solo after he can barely stand to sing a few scales for weeks on end before realizing that he still wasn't completely confident about his voice. Was it really still the same? Has he always sounded like that? Despite many reassurances that he sounded just as good as he had before, he was still worried.

He could barely get up the nerve to sing in their technologically refined theater on karaoke night, how was he going to handle a full working show at Nationals?

No one who wanted to win, that was Kurt's opinion.

All the time now, especially when loud music or construction caused his ears to ring, he worried his lip between his teeth, hoping that it wouldn't affect his hearing. Perhaps it was too much, but Kurt knew if anyone else were in this situation they would too.

He fretted about the volume of the speakers at Nationals, and the plane ride as well. Especially when he knew they were hoping to sit closer to the stage, thus the speakers, to support New Directions. They thought he'd be excited by that, but the risk to his ears and the desperate fear of his hearing being affected, despite the fact that he could just easily use ear plugs further pushed him to decline attending Nationals. Perhaps he was overreacting, but he'd long since decided to implicate the 'better to be safe than sorry' method to his life. Even so, he felt guilty.

Once again, he was fighting himself. If the council and the other Warblers – Blaine, especially – knew of his deepest reason for not wanting to go, they might've have pushed for him to go more. He offered them a feeble excuse of being afraid to fly; none of them knew he'd never been on a plane to begin with. As for his family, well, his father already knew when he'd made his mind up there was no way it was going to be changed, especially when he'd barely given his father notice to begin with. Kurt knew it was a rather desperate attempt and he was grasping at straws, but he had been terrified of hurting their chances at Nationals by screwing up somehow.

Kurt felt rather guilty for lying to Blaine, but he knew that Blaine wouldn't be able to say sorry, I know you've got a fear of flying but how about you come on board anyway and risk another breakdown?, Blaine was far too much of a gentleman for that. His father definitely knew something was up, but he had merely squeezed Kurt's shoulder and made him breakfast when Kurt announced his newly-discovered fear of flying.

Kurt was thankful that he hadn't been forced to attend Nationals, but he felt guilty that The Warblers had believed him so easily. Sometimes, Kurt found himself feeling queasy late at night whenever he looked over to David's empty bed in their dorm. Sometimes, it was as if he was getting stabbed in the chest with the realization that he could be there at Nationals with his fellow Warblers, but instead he'd chosen the safe route, all because of such a silly reason. He desperately wanted to talk to someone about it, to have someone comfort him and tell him that he wasn't being a coward for refusing to attend Nationals, but he feared no one would understand.

So, he didn't go to Nationals, pacifying himself with the thought that he was doing them a favour, really, with his absence there would be less risk of them messing up. However, when The Warblers returned from Nationals with a second place win, the words of the council as they each reassured him that his last minute bail-out of Nationals was completely understandable sprung to his mind, and he felt it was his fault, or at least he contributed to their loss by his not being there. Show Choir could be like a football game, if you were down a man, you'd just lost an advantage.

The Warblers were invited to a celebratory party in Quinn's house, and Kurt had initially declined, considering he had played no part in their winning, but Blaine had managed to convince him with puppy eyes and the promise that they would have fun.

Quinn's home was very tastefully decorated, and if this had been any other time, Kurt would've taken his time to admire the décor and compliment Mrs. Fabray, but he didn't feel comfortable joining in on their joy. With a quick, whispered apology, he left Blaine admiring the large portrait on the dining room wall, and escaped to the garden, hoping no one would bother him at the Fabrays' far too grand marble fountain.

Now that Nationals were over, everyone had switched gears and started talking about something else – prom. Dalton's prom happened to coincide with McKinley's, and Kurt had been roped into discussing prom attire. Kurt would've been excited, but he knew how loud prom could be, and he feared that the speakers would affect his hearing. He wondered if he'd ever get over this fear, or if he would live his life avoiding noise. A couple of Warblers, including Blaine, who truly sent his heart racing, had asked Kurt to prom, and even when Kurt declined, they had suggested other people he could go with. It was as if they were determined to get him a date to prom. Kurt was touched, really, but he just couldn't.

Like Mercedes had, he doesn't think he'll ever forget that particular disagreement between them, because though he and Mercedes could get catty, they usually did that with everyone else.

It'd started out as a simple conversation late at night concerning her prom dress, except when she'd brought up asking him for what he was sure to be the sixth time, to prom.

"We already worked it out, if you'd just consider-"

"I am not risking my hearing to go to a silly high school dance, Cedes, if I'm not going to Dalton's prom what makes you think I'd agree to go to McKinley's, especially since you know there's a certain jock I myself introduced you to months ago that is more than willing to take you?" Kurt winced at how snappy he sounded, but he was tired and frustrated.

She sighed, and Kurt swore to himself he could just hear her tutting under her breath. "Boo, you know I just don't feel for him like that. Taking him to prom would be leading him on. Plus having you with me, and Blaine with Brittany just seems like more fun for all of us! Come on, you know you want the chance to stick it to the rest of the school by dancing with your hot boyfriend."

He could just hear her winking suggestively, but he didn't want to let this go. Even though he didn't quite mind having her assume Blaine was his boyfriend, one date before they left for Nationals could mean that, right? He coughed and tried to compose himself, this was not the time to allow himself to get distracted by thoughts of Blaine.

That was better left for his French class, where the teacher insisted on them reading poems out loud over and over again.

"I can't, Cedes. I just—can't. Losing my hearing… Well, it really made me question things. I don't ever want that to happen again. I can't-I can't." He knew he was about to cry, and he swallowed, fighting to hold his tears back so he could finish the conversation.

"I love you, Cedes, but I just, I can't, I'm sorry. Besides, we have forever to make memories. I can't make this one for you, please don't ask me to go to prom where all I'll be wondering...is if the loud music will be hurting my ears, or if I'm hearing something right, or if I'm hearing something wrong. What if I don't hear someone right, does that mean something bad happened already?" He exhaled. "I'm terrified," he said. "I'm so, so sorry."

"There you are!"

Kurt whipped around so fast he almost lost his balance. He gripped the edge of the fountain to keep from toppling in. Blaine stood in front of him with his hands in his pockets, head cocked slightly to the right.

"Blaine," he exhaled, relieved. At least he knew Blaine wouldn't be mad at him for ditching the party to mope.

"Hey," he replied, sounding just as relieved as Kurt, "I've been looking for you for the past half an hour. Finn swore you'd left him here without a ride."

"You could've just called my cell," Kurt said, looking anywhere but at Blaine. He wondered if Blaine would question him about disappearing so quickly – he couldn't deal with it right now.

"You left your phone on the dining room table," Blaine replied with a huff and a smile as he handed Kurt his iPhone and moved to sit himself beside Kurt at the fountain's edge. Kurt shimmied to shove his phone in his hip-hugging pants' front pocket when Blaine's next question startled him enough to look up.

"What're you doing out here? You're missing all the fun inside," Blaine said. "I know you weren't at Nationals with us, but like we've been telling you Kurt, all of us were thinking about you. We wanted you there. So our placing, and your friends winning, well those accomplishments are yours too."

Kurt looked up at Blaine through his lashes before straightening up. "Thanks, but I'm not sitting here due to some epic depression about missing Nationals, not really anyway. I don't regret my decision at all. I just thought I'd enjoy the night air more than the loud music they were playing in there."

Kurt tried to ignore Blaine's frown at his statement, but he couldn't ignore the pang it made in his heart. Why couldn't he worry about these things? What was so wrong with that? He'd thought that Blaine, at least, would understand, but now it seemed that he had been wrong.

"You know, that's kinda what I wanted to talk to you about."

"God no," Kurt interrupted with a groan. "Can we please not start up with the whole prom thing, again?" Then, to change the subject, he said, "You should go back inside, you're missing all the fun."

Blaine smiled briefly. "Well," he said. "To be honest, it's not much fun without you, and Puck keeps asking me if we've had sex yet." Blaine's cheeks coloured at the end of his sentence, and Kurt had to look away to keep from blushing. "Anyway," Blaine continued, "I was concerned about the way you refused to go out with me." Blaine was blushing again, and he said, almost sheepishly, "I understand if you don't feel the way I do, and I hope you find someone that deserves you, but we're still friends, right?"

"No Blaine, no. I mean," Kurt corrected himself. "I want to go out with you." Blaine let out a small, hopeful noise at that, and Kurt chanced a glance at Blaine's face. "I said no to going to prom, you seem to have forgotten that I offered a plethora of other things we could be doing instead. For example, rather than spend a couple of hours in a room full of people, half of whom harass me daily, we could pay for an evening of dining at the most exclusive restaurant in the city, Lovely." His hand itched to grip Blaine's but he refrained.

Blaine replied with a brow raised, "I probably would have accepted that if it wasn't for the fact that just the other night, I heard you tell Finn how much you abhorred their décor and general lack of finesse, especially in regards to their rumored lack of actual knowledge of the French language," but he was smiling, teeth visible between his lips. Kurt watched as Blaine's hand inched towards his own, and he looked away quickly in case Blaine caught him staring.

Kurt offered his best 'bitch please' stare before replying. "If they can't deduce the difference between àla carte and à la mode, then I have a right to feel a little on edge about it being so popular. That was all I was trying to say."

"Nice try with trying to deflect to the topic, but I'm sure we can debate over the cuisine, or the questionable naming of Lovely's dishes to be such a thing another time, I'm not going to let this go Kurt. I can't when I know you're just afraid." They were back to talking about prom now, and Kurt debated briefly if kissing Blaine would prove a thorough enough distraction so Blaine would stop asking.

"Which I have a right to be," Kurt pointed out, almost affronted.

"You do, you will always have the right to feel what you feel, but Kurt." Blaine took a deep breath before continuing. "Don't you think it's wrong to let that fear control you? You're more than that, you've always been more courageous than I thought a person could be. Don't let fear keep you from enjoying yourself, Kurt."

Kurt tried to turn away from Blaine's imploring gaze, but his focus was drawn back by the feeling of Blaine grasping his hand. Blaine's palm was warm and dry around Kurt's hand, and Blaine squeezed lightly, for reassurance.

"If you can't talk to me, then I'm going to have to assume there's more to this than what you're saying."

"What more could there be to it? All this for one silly dance, is it really necessary?" Kurt's brow crinkled as he tried to ease his hand from Blaine's, the quicker that happened, the quicker he could end this conversation.

Blaine held his hand tighter. "If this truly bothers you," Blaine said. "We won't go to prom. We can go to Lovely and order in poor grammar and eat misnamed dishes, and we'll forget about this, alright?" He looked so hopeful that Kurt couldn't leave.

Kurt tried to look away from Blaine's gaze, but Blaine was so earnest that it was hard to distract himself from his wish-he-would-be boyfriend. Blaine's eyes locked with Kurt's own, and Kurt bit his lip. Blaine's eyes flickered to Kurt's lips, and then, he said, "I'm just saying, there's only so long you can hide from yourself, before you realize there's no reason for it."

"This is getting ridiculous, Blaine. Let go of my hand," Kurt demanded through clenched teeth, even though he didn't want to move. Clearly, Blaine didn't want to move either, because he held on. "Please," Kurt said, just an edge of imploring. "Let me go."

It was obvious the other boy was extremely reluctant to do so as he eased his grip half way only to raise Kurt's hand to his lips, and place a swift kiss to his knuckles.

"You need to let go of this anxiety and realize that we'd never ask you to participate in something that could hurt you. It's okay to be scared, but I'd rather you hold my hand through the fear than try to walk away from it alone." Blaine let go of his hand then, and fidgeted in his place. "Sorry," he said. "That was out of line," but he was smiling slightly.

Kurt would deny it years down the line, but he looked like a deer caught in the high-beam headlights. His heart was racing, his face was flushed, and he was pretty sure his mouth was open in a silent oh.

Did Blaine just do that to him?

He sputtered for a moment, trying to get his bearings about him, and shoved Blaine away slightly, feeling slightly victorious in finally having both hands free.

"You can't just go and do that!" he exclaimed, blood rushing to his cheeks. Great, Kurt was just being silly – this big a reaction over a kiss on the knuckles? Kurt didn't need his hummingbird heartbeat now, of all times. He didn't need Blaine playing with his heart now, either. He knew that Blaine kissed his hand to encourage him to give in.

"Do what?" Blaine replied faux-innocently.

"You're trying to play with me aren't you? It's not—It's not…" What he wanted to say was, 'It's not helping, it's hurting.' Blaine's attempt at convincing him had only made Kurt's heart clench unceasingly. He could barely keep his voice steady, and eventually he gave up trying as Blaine leaned closer and closer to him. Kurt leaned back as Blaine advanced, until he felt that he could topple into the fountain at any minute.

He felt one of Blaine's arms snake around his waist and pull him in closer.

"It's not the Olympics, it's not some epic competition you need to win, and it's not a hardcore concert that could shatter glass in seconds. You, my little drama queen, need to realize that there's no way I'm going to let go of an event I recall you talking about endlessly before your hearing worsened. I don't want you to stop your own happiness because of health concerns. You can wear earplugs," Blaine said, and his hand found Kurt's again, fingers twining together with Kurt's. "Hell, I'll wear earplugs."

He leaned in even closer, and Kurt stopped trying to squirm away. He wondered if Blaine could feel Kurt's pulse through their skin as Blaine ran the pad of his thumb over Kurt's wrist, tracing miniature circles.

"Right, Kurt?" Blaine was so close now that Kurt could feel the words forming on Blaine's lips against his. He shuddered, and Blaine pulled back a little to let him answer.

"Um," Kurt stuttered, missing the warmth ghost of Blaine's breath already. "Yes, absolutely," he babbled. Anything to get Blaine's lips on his again.

"So," Blaine leaned in again, breathing lightly against Kurt's lips. "Come to prom with me. Whichever one you want, Dalton's, McKinley's, heck why not add the GLBT prom in downtown Columbus! Just make these memories with me Kurt, I promise you won't regret it, and whenever you get scared," he gripped Kurt's hand tighter, and Kurt squeezed back, feeling the calluses of Blaine's palm rub against his skin. "I promise you can hold my hand as tight as you need to, I'll be here." Blaine whispered, barely a millimeter from Kurt's lips.

"Yes," Kurt breathed out.

He should have expected it, he should have closed his eyes, or maybe even breathed back in because once he felt Blaine's lips upon his own the world seemed to be forgotten. The splashing of the fountain water seemed a million miles away, and the loud party music faded.

What party?

All Kurt knew was that this boy's slightly chapped lips felt more like heaven than any $700 Gucci purchase ever could be. Kurt surged forward to deepen it, his tongue licking at Blaine's bottom lip, wetting the grooves and lines. He could feel Blaine's eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, and Blaine raised a hand to cup Kurt's cheek, keeping him there. Kurt's hands tangled in Blaine's thankfully ungelled hair.

With a sudden realization, Kurt's eyes popped open and he pulled away suddenly, leaving Blaine hanging in the air for a moment with an adorable expression of shock and confusion with pouted lips and mused hair, looking thoroughly kissed.

Kurt cocked his head to the side with a smile, "Does this mean you're my boyfriend?" He had to make sure.

Blaine couldn't help but giggle as he leaned forward to share a short Eskimo kiss before replying, "Of course I am," Blaine huffed. "There is no one else I'd rather to this with." He blushed then. "Well, if you want me, that is."

Kurt knew that just because he agreed to go to prom didn't mean that his issues were fixed. On the contrary, he knew that he'd be scared once that event was set to occur, but finally have this one little piece of goodness in front of him, at least helped to center him.

"Of course I do," Kurt breathed, and Blaine kissed him again, chastely this time and closed-mouthed.

The drama of these past few weeks fell to the back of his mind as he looked at his boyfriend, he giggled at the thought and wondered if he'd ever get used to that. He hoped not, it seemed too precious to ever become an old thing within his mind.

Blaine stroked affectionately at Kurt's deaf ear, fingers running across his auricle. He smiled at this sensation. He knew his hearing wasn't getting better, but it hadn't gotten worse, not yet, anyhow. It wasn't perfection, and it wasn't progress, but he was fine, and that was all he needed.

Kurt stood up with the largest smile he'd shared in weeks, and extended his hand to Blaine, "Let's go back to the party, I need to make sure Rachel hasn't found Quinn's old karaoke set, I'd take on a stadium of noise before I'd try her drunk rendition of "Le Isle Bonita" again." He shuddered dramatically, and Blaine laughed, bouncing up behind him and gripping his hand.

They began slowly walking up the Fabrays' elaborate driveway towards the house interior with their hands swinging in comfortable silence.

So much had happened in this garden within the last few minutes, and Kurt was just beginning to realize what had truly just happened.

Maybe, he realized, the problem all this time had been that he hadn't listened. Not in the literal sense of the word, but to his heart.

He'd been so frightened, because losing his actual hearing truly sent him into a level of shock he'd never experience before, and he'd forgotten not only how to listen to every noise in a crowded room, but how to listen to his heart.

As they began their journey through the maze-like halls of the Fabray home, Kurt stopped Blaine and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

The other boy didn't know it – or perhaps he did – but it was a silent thank you for reminding him that there was a heart to listen to as well. He wasn't completely fearless, and would never really be, but that was the good thing. He had struck a balance and Blaine had helped him with that. Kurt hoped that, if he was ever to have such a crisis, he would remember to listen to his heart.

"You should, you know, more often," Blaine said. "Listen to your heart, I mean."

"I am," Kurt assured him.

"Yeah?" Blaine grinned. "What's it saying?"

Kurt pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Blaine's mouth, a teasing promise to something more. "Thank you," he murmurs.

The End.

Thank you all SO MUCH for being patient with me while I finished this fic up. I hope you all enjoyed it!

Truly this wonderful adventure into my first multi-chapter fanfic couldn't have been done without my lovely beta! If you enjoyed this fanfic, particularly those last few lines because there is NO WAY I'm finished this without letting you know SHE added that, then I urge you to go check out her work. She can be found on fanfiction dot net as "ToCarveLoveOnHerArms"; and Livejournal as "dreamerofmonday". She's truly been a wonderful beta and if you're lucky enough to have her help with your fanfiction then I know you'll have an epic piece of work on your hands.

I know this fanfic isn't a master piece or anything, but it was great fun to write and truly I can't thank all of you who reviewed/favorited/put on your alerts list, enough! There were days I'd lose confidence and there you were! Proving to me that someone enjoyed this just as much as I do.

So thank you and for one final time on this fanfic, review?

:)